


Signs He Cares

by afteriwake



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's nearly Christmas and Joan finds that while Sherlock might despise the holiday he'll do a lot to make sure she has an enjoyable day that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Signs He Cares

**Author's Note:**

> And my last **land_deduction** bingo fill today! This one answers the "Christmas" prompt for the Both Shows card.

It was a week until Christmas when Joan finally went up to Sherlock and waited patiently for him to finish reassembling the lock he had taken apart. She was curious about what he planned to do for the holiday, mostly because he didn't seem to be the type to celebrate any holiday, especially one typically meant to be celebrated with families. He didn't look up for a few minutes, even though she knew he knew she was standing there. Finally he spoke. “I don't do Christmas,” he said as he set aside the lock. “Between the religious connotations and the rampant commercialism I find it to be a very distasteful holiday. I prefer to treat it as just another day.”

“Well, that's good to know,” she said quietly. Truth be told she had expected that. “Guess that means I shouldn't be expecting a present.”

“No, you shouldn't,” he said, reaching over for another lock. “And don't get me one, either. The same holds true for any gift giving holiday, up to and including my birthday.”

“How can you not want gifts on your birthday?” she asked, her jaw hanging slightly.

“Because I haven't had reason to celebrate since I was young,” he said with a shrug as he turned his attention back to the lock. “My family was not a family that celebrated things much.”

She was quiet. It was one thing not to like over commercialized holidays, but she'd always been a bit sad when people didn't want to celebrate their birthdays. She'd respect his wishes, of course; she liked to think they had become friends at this point and if nothing else she didn't want to lose his friendship over something like giving a gift. “I'll remember that,” she said with a nod.

“That doesn't mean I won't celebrate your birthday,” he said quietly. “If you choose to accept gifts that day I'll get you something useful or unique.”

She smiled a bit. “That would be very nice. Thank you, Sherlock.”

“What are your plans for Christmas, anyway?” he asked.

“Dinner with the family,” she said. “I'm not looking forward to it, mostly because my brother got a promotion and my mother's probably going to despair about my new career and how little money I make.”

“You make a decent sum,” he said, finally looking up at her. “It's more than enough to survive.”

“I know. But it's not as much as I used to make, and this job isn't as prestigious.” She shrugged. “I'll get used to it, I suppose. I got used to it when I was a sober companion.”

Sherlock nodded and then turned his attention back to the lock. After a minute, however, he set the lock down and looked at her again. “You shouldn't have to get used to it. You have a very important job. I don't look at it this way very often, mostly because I tend to look at cases as puzzles to solve, but we help people. Your mother should be proud of you for that.”

“That would be wonderful, but it's just not going to happen,” she said with a wry smile. “Anyway, I was going to pick up a few things. Do you need anything?”

“More of the Earl Grey would be nice,” he said. “And currants.”

She grinned. “Now that I know how to properly make scones you want me to make them all the time,” she teased.

“That was the general idea,” he said with a nod.

“Fine. But only because I'm nice.” She watched him pick up the lock again and turn his attention towards it, and then she left to go get her coat and scarf. She slipped her coat on and tied her scarf around her throat. “I'll be back in a bit.” He raised his hand and said nothing, and she shook her head, smile still on her face. She really did like having him as a friend, even if they were still working on things.

–

The closer Christmas got the more she dreaded spending the evening with her family. She loved them, she really did, but she knew there was going to be constant comparisons between her and her brother. She loved what she did now, more than she had loved being a surgeon or a sober companion, and while her mother had become more accepting of her career choices as of late she knew deep down her mother wanted things to go back to how they had been and she didn't want that at all.

Two days before Christmas Sherlock suggested they take some time away from their newest case to buy something to appease her mother. They hadn't found anything so far but the fact he'd wanted to try had made her happy. At the moment they were at a Starbucks nursing their drinks in an attempt to warm up. “Well,” she said, taking a sip of her chai tea. “So far we haven't had any luck.”

“You could always tell her you fell ill,” Sherlock suggested before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Even if I was on death's doorstep she'd demand I be there,” she said before leaning back in her seat.

“I can always delay progress on this case so you can tell her you're busy with your consulting job,” he said thoughtfully.

She shook her head. “That's not fair to Gregson or Marcus, not to mention the victim's family.”

“I suppose.” He watched her take a sip of her drink. “I could always phone you during the dinner and say I'm about to relapse.”

She nearly choked on her drink. “Don't you dare!” she hissed, her eyes wide.

“I wouldn't actually _do_ it,” he said. “But it wouldn't surprise anyone if a recently recovering addict got overwhelmed on such a major holiday.”

“I don't want to lie to my family. And I don't want them to think badly of you, either.” She sighed. “It's only one dinner. I can get through one dinner. I've done it before.”

“Well, perhaps I can lift your spirits when you're done. I can make sure one of your favorite films is ready when you walk through the door.”

She stared at him for a moment. “What are you wanting to...” She trailed off, trying to marshal her thoughts. After a couple minutes she spoke again. “Why are you trying to make sure I have a good Christmas? I mean, you hate the holiday.”

“You're my friend,” he said quietly. “I don't have many of those. And I suppose even though I find the holiday abhorrent you don't, and I don't want it spoiled for you.”

She gave him a warm smile. The admission that he actually cared meant more to her than he probably realized. “Thank you, Sherlock. That means a lot.”

He scowled slightly in response. “Don't think I'll be this way all the time. When Valentine's Day rolls around and you lament about being single you will find no sympathy from me.”

She grinned more widely at that. “Even if it's your fault?”

“How could it _possibly_ be my fault?” he asked incredulously.

“You have ways of making sure my dates happen once, then never again,” she said wryly.

“Well, even if you misguidingly believe me to be to blame for it, I still wouldn't commiserate with you,” he said with a slight pout.

She chuckled. “It's a good thing for you I generally tend to celebrate Singles Awareness Day that day with my other friends.”

He scoffed. “That's the stupidest name for a holiday I've ever heard, especially one that exists solely as an excuse for single people to feel better about being single.”

“I'll get you to celebrate next year,” she said.

“Good luck” he muttered. She watched him for a moment before sipping her tea. One day she would get him to celebrate one holiday with her. This was her new goal for their friendship and she'd succeed, too, or die trying.

–

The family dinner went exactly as badly as she had anticipated. Her brother hadn't been boastful or bragging, not at all, but her mother had compared them from the minute she walked in until her brother had had enough forty-five minutes later. The rest of dinner had been a tense, strained affair, and as soon as she could make her escape she had. Her brother had offered to take her back to the brownstone but she wanted solitude and time to think. By the time she got home she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget the day had ever happened.

She opened the door and made her way inside, taking her coat and scarf off and hanging them by the door. She could hear the television on and she smelled something good coming from the kitchen. Considering she'd barely ate anything at dinner she wasn't surprised that her stomach rumbled. “Sherlock, I'm back,” she called out.

“In the kitchen!” he yelled back. She made her way there and looked at him and then the rest of the kitchen. He was putting the kettle on the stove, and when she looked to his side she saw multiple takeout containers. “I figured you would be there an hour and a half, two hours at most. It's been...” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Two hours and eight minutes since you left. I also assumed the stress of the evening would mean you would barely touch your food. Since it's been two weeks since we've had Indian I ordered your favorites. The food arrived twenty minutes ago so it's still hot.”

She grinned at him, the first smile she'd worn all day. “You really do know me well, apparently.” She moved over to the takeout containers. “It smells really good.”

“Well, I hope you'll take that as a small token of my esteem for you. The tea will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you. For all of it,” she said before she began to take down plates and bring out utensils. She served up her portion and brought it to the table. When the tea was ready Sherlock prepared it and then brought it over to her, serving her a cup of fragrant green tea before fixing himself a plate. He brought it over to the table and they ate in companionable silence. She was grateful for it because she didn't want to think about how rotten her evening had been. When they were done she stood up. “I think I just want to go to bed now.”

“I have some films for you that you enjoy,” he said, looking up at her with a frown.

“Thanks, but I just want to sleep until it's the 26th. Late into the 26th.” She gave him a grin. “I'll see you tomorrow, Sherlock.”

“Good night,” he said before turning back to his food.

She left the kitchen and made her way to the stairs. She climbed up them and made her way to her bedroom, opening up the door and turning on her light. The first thing that caught her eyes was the new addition to her room. There was a long thin box on her best, wrapped in red paper with a gold bow on top. She was surprised, but she made her way to her bed and sat down on it, pulling the present closer. There was a card on top, and she pulled it out. The cover had a gold Christmas tree on it, and when she opened it she saw “Merry Christmas” typed on the card as well as a written note. It said “Something to make you smile. Don't expect this next year.”

She smiled as she set the note aside and carefully took the paper off the box. When she was done she opened the lid and moved back the tissue paper to reveal a scarf and a beret and a pair of leather gloves. She reached over to finger the scarf and realized it was cashmere. The hat was not cashmere but it was a wool blend in the same hue. And the leather gloves felt soft to the touch. She picked one up and put it on her hand, pleased to find it was a perfect fit. She took it off, carefully laying it in the box, and then looked down at the gift with a smile. This was so much more than she had expected from him.

She quickly got off the bed and made her way down to the kitchen. He was still there, doing the few dishes they had left. “Hey, is the offer of a movie still out there?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. I went through your DVDs and looked at the ones you had on the top. I drew the line at holiday movies.”

“It's all right,” she said. “I'm sure I'll like what you got.” She went over to him and gently put a hand on his arm, pulling his attention away from what he was doing. “Come on. We have a movie to watch. The dishes can wait.”

“If you're sure.”

“I am.” She lifted her hand up. “I'll even let you pick the one that sounds most appealing to you.”

He gave her a small grin. “Well, I think that would be the first Lord of the Rings movies. I know you don't think it's my type of film but even I got swept up in the story. And I noticed you had the extended editions.”

“And were all three DVDs you picked the trilogy?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes.”

“Then let's stay up all night and watch all of them, back to back. Feel like pulling an all nighter?” she asked.

“I could do that,” he said as he nodded.

“Then you go set up the first movie and I'll get us some popcorn.” She moved slightly to turn him around towards the living room and then she gave him a slight shove. “I can take care of things in here.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. She watched him go and smiled widely. Really, behind the tough exterior and the constant sarcasm and the need to prove he was the most intelligent person in the room Sherlock Holmes wasn't that bad of a guy. In fact, he was a very good guy, and a wonderful friend, and she hoped he stayed in her life for a long time to come.


End file.
